


Two in Solitude

by EgoStorm



Series: Supernaturals [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 09:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoStorm/pseuds/EgoStorm
Summary: Seungcheol was twenty when he first found himself at death's door





	Two in Solitude

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been able to write in a really long time until now, so I guess this work is important for me just because I was able to finish something after having no motivation to write? Please excuse this awful writing~

**Seungcheol**

 

_ “Today marks 500 days, Seungcheol. Did you know?” _

 

_ Seungcheol ran his fingers through thick, golden locks of fur, smiling at the golden retriever that was panting in enjoyment from his company, along his lover of apparently 500 days now. They were at the dog cafe, Jisoo’s chamomile half gone while Seungcheol’s citron tea was still full to the brim, thin wisps of steam escaping from the yellow mug. It was a tactic to stay at the cafe for as long as possible without ordering enough to run down their paychecks _ _ —Jisoo’s paychecks mostly, since he was the one with the more reliable income, working full-time in a decent company—and be surrounded by dogs. Seungcheol’s apartment didn’t allow for pets, and Jisoo wasn’t confident he would have enough time for one, so they satisfied Seungcheol’s desires by coming to the cafe for their dates. _

 

_ “That long already?” Seungcheol asked, more from amazement than disbelief. “Do you think we should do something special?” _

 

_ “Like what?” Jisoo asked while beckoning a dalmatian with his outstretched hand. When the dalmatian came close enough, he scratched its chin. “Spending a few hours more than usual here?” _

 

_ “No, I mean something really special.” _

 

_ “Really special?” _

 

_ Seungcheol hesitated, his heartbeat slowly increasing in frequency and magnitude, suddenly aware that this was the moment he had been waiting for. This was the moment the words were supposed to come out when they had been hiding under his tongue for some time, never fully ready to jump out. He inhaled, made eye contact with the golden retriever to gather his mental strength, and then exhaled. He looked his lover in the eyes, his own hardened with resolve. _

 

_ “Let's move in together, Jisoo.” _

 

He didn’t know why that particular memory surfaced in the face of death, but it did. Maybe it was one of his happiest, most peaceful moment, despite the rattling nerves he faced. Maybe it was the final memory he wanted to remember, the most important part of his life flashing before his eyes.

 

“We need more bandages! There’s more wounded coming in!”

 

There was an unpleasant smell in the air, of blood and antiseptic and dust. He could hear footsteps and urgent utterances fill the suffocating air, a voice shouting at him without him understanding what was being said. Pain in his chest overshadowed any other sensation he might have had, and he wondered if it was the cause of the suffocating sensation he was feeling. Cracking open his dusty eyes, the pain in his chest nagging at him more than the pain in his eyes from the invading dirt, he looked down to see a dark garnet spread across his uniform. At first he was in denial that it was his own blood, but the warmth of his clothing and the hasty behavior of the nurse beside him told him otherwise. As she pressed down on his wounds with a towel, he slowed down his breathing. He had been shot twice in the chest, one of the bullets too close to his heart for him to hope that he would make it out alive.

 

He closed his eyes, too tired to resist the doom he faced, ready to accept eternal rest with open arms. Tension in his body fading was fading away as the nurse’s screams became duller, and he could feel the sun envelope his skin even through the thick tent. There was no shame dying in battle. Even if he died after just reaching the golden age of twenty, even if others found him pitiful for not being able to live the following grad years to come, Choi Seungcheol, representative from Daegu, would die a hero. It was that final thought that left him in peace.

 

~~~~~

 

He didn’t how long he slept, but it was much less than forever like he had anticipated. Seungcheol inhaled deeply, allowing air to force open deepest corners of his lungs as if he hadn’t breathed for ages, his body aching dully as he did so.

 

He woke up, his eyes fluttering open when he remembered where he was. Even when all signs were against him, he woke up in the medical tent he last saw before what he thought would have been his final look at the world, his breathing confirming that he was indeed alive. But something was off, considering he was still on a battlefield. Even without telling how long he had been out, there was a still silence surrounding him, hauntingly lingering in the air, so drastically different than the chaos he fell unconscious to.

 

“Hello?” he called, clearing his throat once after hearing his rusty voice, before sitting up, surprised that the pain in his chest was gone. Stretching the bullet holes in his uniform with his fingers, he noticed that there was still blood dried on his skin. There was blood, but when he picked away the scabs from the small opening, he couldn’t find a wound. Not that he thoroughly searched for one, since he didn’t know exactly where he was shot, it was strange that he didn’t feel pain, unless he was already in the afterworld that looked disappointingly like Earth. But he was sure he was alive, but somehow, with no way to explain it, he had healed.

 

Intrigued, he wanted to test a theory that promptly formed in his head, that perhaps he had the power to heal at a monstrous speed. Not that there was any logic to his theory, but he wasn’t one to deny that the world contained supernatural beings. He thought that, recalling his eighth-grade injury that kept him on a cast for six weeks, his powers must have developed upon reaching adulthood. He was finally the golden age of twenty, after all. Maybe he was one of a special few, and being in a medical tent, he could surely find sharp supplies to test this.

 

He turned to look for the nurse he remembered, but his sense of curiosity was replaced by a sense of dread when, instead of nurses running around the tent in a frenzy like before, he saw their bodies motionless on the floor, spilt blood around them. Without having to closely examine them, he knew they were dead. Killed. This wasn’t a matter of killing other soldiers, other living weapons. It was a matter of murder. A terrible feeling dawning on him, Seungcheol couldn’t let out his voice, nor could he move his self. His terror became a barrier, not because it was his first time seeing death, but because someone attacked the medical tent when even in war it’s off-limits. The doctors and nurses, who volunteer to save lives that could be salvaged despite the potential danger they faced, were mercilessly slaughtered. Even the wounded soldiers on the bunks were vacant of life, and Seungcheol wondered why he was spared. Maybe it was that the attacker thought it would be a waste of a bullet to shoot a seemingly dying man, but it didn’t excuse their actions. Not in the slightest. Seungcheol wanted to know who it was they were fighting. Who was it that was so greedy for victory that they decided to kill the innocent?

 

From that point on, Seungcheol returned to the battlefield to fight. To defeat the evil that looked down on the rules of war. Though he never was able to discover the culprit, he was able to survive to see the victory of his country, and it wasn’t necessarily satisfactory enough to quell Seungcheol’s rage, but it was likely the best reasonable outcome he could have asked for.

 

~~~~~

 

**Jihoon**

 

_ Next up in tonight's news, there has been yet another fire in the city, making this the second this month. Police suspect that it is the work of serial arsonist “Cinder Fingers”, but unfortunately, there are still no leads on who this arsonist may be. If anyone has any information that they think may be helpful to this investigation, please call- _

 

The news reporter was cut off with a click when the television was turned off. Jihoon scarfed down the remainder of his breakfast of french toast, only having half paid attention to what the reporter was saying. There was something more interesting occupying his mind.

 

“Don’t eat too fast, honey, or you’ll get indigestion,” chimed his mother as she set down a refill of his glass of milk. She then grabbed her purse and keys, ready to leave anytime, and then sat to watch Jihoon chug down his milk. An adoring smile stretched across her face. 

 

“Excited, are we?”

 

Without a word, Jihoon hopped down from his chair and zoomed past his mother to the front door, looking back to see if she was following.    
  
“All right, all right, I’m coming,” she said to the expectant little boy. Though he was frowning, his mother knew how ecstatic he was inside. “Let’s go see the flying man.

 

The flying man was the neighborhood uncle, the neighborhood wonder. He was a man with the ability to hover a few inches off the ground, with no known reason why, but it was well known in the small town. At first, residents were worried that he might be dangerous, but it didn’t take long for him to capture the hearts of both the children and their mothers with his friendly smile and hearty laugh. Every month, the children would visit him, but for Jihoon, it was a first.   
  


"Uncle Seokmin!" Jihoon heard someone shout when he got out of the car before running over to the voice without waiting for his mother to catch up. It was his first time seeing the rumored man, and though he didn't admit it, he had trouble staying asleep last night from anticipation.

 

Jihoon stopped in his tracks when he approached the circle of children surrounding the flying man, who glanced over in Jihoon's direction. The man was standing with his feet planted firmly on the floor, walking normally to the little boy.

 

"Oh, I haven't seen you around before. I'm Uncle Seokmin! What's your name?"

 

The flying man kneeled down as he extended his hand for Jihoon to shake, but Jihoon only stared.

 

"His name is Jihoon," his mother answered for him when she finally caught up. "I'm sorry, he's a little shy."

 

Uncle Seokmin grinned and levitated, finally showcasing his powers to the young Jihoon, who turned bright-eyed and full of wonder. "That's alright, as long as he enjoys himself, I don't mind."

 

The children sat in a circle as if routine and Uncle Seokmin invited Jihoon over as well.

  
"We're going to play duck duck goose. Do you know how to play?"

 

Jihoon nodded, and Uncle Seokmin gave him an encouraging smile.

 

"How about you start, Jihoon?"

 

"Duck," Jihoon said as he tapped the head of the first child. "Duck, duck, duck, duck."

 

He tapped just about every child's head, planning to choose the flying man, but just before he reached the flying man's head, "Goose!" he shouted as he started to run around the circle of children. The child chasing him had not been able to catch up on time, and it was now his turn to choose the next chaser.

 

After a few turns, a child chose the flying man to chase him. At the shout of "goose", the children shouted and the flying man got up and flew around in a circle, chasing the child who chose him. Though the flying man made a small fit out loud about how Jun was too fast for him, Jihoon realized the man could have flown much faster and was only accommodating for the child’s smaller legs.

 

It was finally Uncle Seokmin’s turn to pick a chaser. He walked with his feet on the ground as he did so.

 

"Duck, duck, duck," he slowly tapped on each child's head, and then "Goose!" when he tapped Jihoon's.

 

Jihoon stood up, ready to chase the flying man as fast as his legs could carry him, but the flying man fell to his knees before Jihoon could start his sprint.

 

With a moment of uncertainty and the game being unofficially over, the children surrounded Uncle Seokmin, asking if he was okay, though he looked as confused as everyone else.

 

"What's wrong?" echoed small voices, and eventually adult voices when the mothers came to see what was happening.

 

"I... I can't fly," he said in shock, and a wave of gasps followed.

 

“What do you mean you can’t fly?” asked Jihoon’s mother.

 

“I don’t know… I just… can’t.”

 

Silence settled quickly, no one knowing what to do or how to comfort him, and the mothers collectively decided, speaking only through wordless expressions and gestures, that it was best for them to leave Uncle Seokmin to himself.

 

When Jihoon returned home, he asked his mother if Uncle Seokmin was going to be better, feeling rather attached and sorrowful after just one day, and his mother assured him that the flying man will be fine. It was convincing enough for Jihoon, but he went to his room anyways, ready to write a “get well soon” letter to the flying man to thank him for that day.

 

He looked around for a sheet of paper to write his letter when he spotted some on top of his bookshelf. Jumping wasn't effective enough to reach them, so he opted to climb the bookshelf to reach the top. Just as he grabbed the pile of paper, his grip on the bookshelf slipped, his socks too slippery against the metal, and he tumbled to the floor. Only, he never quite made contact with the floor.

 

Jihoon opened the eyes that he instinctively shut to see that he was levitating a few inches off the floor. It was surprising, that he was levitating when he could never his entire life. The countless falls and scratches and bruises that could have been prevented if he had such an ability, was surely proof of it. But there he was, in that present moment after just seeing the flying man for the first time, levitating when the flying man could no longer. 

 

Slowly, his feet were guided to the floor. Jihoon could only contemplate, ignoring the scattered mess of papers now on his bedroom floor. He thought about it, not conscious of how much time was passing, but he could only think that somehow he took the power of flight away from the flying man, though he didn't know how. He was only six, and no one would ever seriously take the word of a six-year-old, but he had a horrible feeling that his conclusion was right.

 

~~~~~

 

**Seungcheol**

 

While they lived together, it was hard to say that they spent more time together than before. With Jisoo being promoted as a secretary to a major corporation’s CEO, the time he had off was rare. Seungcheol, with his odd jobs, was able to keep himself financially afloat, and Jisoo was able to keep him mentally. It was more than satisfying enough that at the end of the day, no matter how long or short, Seungcheol was able to rest his eyes upon a peacefully sleeping Jisoo beside him, their shiba Hyuk curled up at the foot of their bed. This peaceful moment it itself was more than enough for Seungcheol to maintain his happiness, and more than he would have asked for. For the one he loved to love him back, and to see him as often as he did was a privilege he was lucky to have, and he knew it.

 

Jisoo was the quieter of the two. He was one to follow along with Seungcheol’s suggestions and play along with his antics. Seungcheol was a leader, while Jisoo blissfully answered to his call —a t least when he could, which was less often than more. Their rare movie dates were often cut short, with Jisoo missing the climax, and Seungcheol filling him in when they met again. Dinner dates were always take-out, so to an outsider, it didn’t look like Seungcheol was dumped. When they ate out the first few times, Seungcheol received the pity of his waiter when he didn’t need it, and it bothered him enough for them to stop eating out altogether. Seungcheol regularly came home to a house without Jisoo, but at least he had Hyuk to greet him. Despite the troubles they had, he understood Jisoo’s position. They were both adults who understood the weight of responsibility.

 

But Seungcheol wanted for once, just once, that they could forget their duties and let themselves loose without worrying about anything. Just once, he wanted to be together with Jisoo without his date checking his email every half hour to make sure everything was running smoothly. And so to make it happen, he took the initiative and told Jisoo a month in advance that they would be going on a three-day cruise. No cell phones, no obligations, no responsibilities, no questions. 

 

At first, Jisoo laughed at the idea, sighing a light  _ if only _ . But then it sank in that Seungcheol said what he meant and meant what he said. Waiting for a response, Seungcheol held Jisoo’s hands tight, pleasing with his eyes and his body, and conveying his seriousness. After a moment of contemplation, Jisoo said it could be possible, considering the long notice. He sent his boss an email that night in hopes that he would be granted such a break without any obligations to check his phone the whole trip. Both of them prepared for disappointment of rejection but anticipated acceptance. Unexpectedly, before long, Jisoo received a reply that made him and Seungcheol jump around in circles, hugging and laughing their way to bed, Jisoo’s laptop still on and abandoned on the coffee table, email on display to remind them the next morning that it wasn’t a dream.

 

Since the moment Jisoo received the okay for the three-day vacation, Seungcheol reminded him of it constantly. Day one was reminding him that it was happening, day two was reminding him to make a list of things to do, day twelve was reminding him which places the cruise would stop at, and day twenty was reminding him to bring remedies for nausea, just in case. The day before D-day, however, was Seungcheol reminding him that he let his boss know a month ahead of time, and that it wasn’t fair that he so suddenly changed his mind because of unexpected circumstances. Seungcheol repeated his words, that his boss should have prepared for something like this, while Jisoo repeatedly stabbed his fork into the chicken on his dinner plate, his appetite chased away by guilt. When Jisoo opened his mouth to speak, one look at Seungcheol told him his lover didn’t want to hear the excuses his boss had to offer. Especially not after Seungcheol’s daily reminders and build up of excitement. Seungcheol just didn’t want to hear it, shutting out his ears and eventually the door as he left by himself, dragging behind him his suitcase too bulky for a part of one, leaving behind a frowning Jisoo and a whimpering Hyuk.

 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to be, Seungcheol scrolling through pictures on his phone, suitcase on the floor unopened, lying alone on a large bed in the suite he rented a month ago when the prices were cheapest. It was supposed to be the two of them, Seungcheol constantly voicing his amazement of how large the ship was, how grand the interior was decorated, and how good the food smelled in the cafeteria. It was supposed to be the both of them exploring every corner of the ship on the first night, Jisoo’s phone turned off and tucked away in their room while the two played games in the arcade. It was supposed to be a trip together so they could each share a piece of this memory to treasure, but instead, Seungcheol was curled up, regretting letting out his anger before he left, but not having the courage to apologize. He turned off his phone and tossed it aside, hearing a soft thud as it hit the fluffy rug on the floor. He closed his eyes, wondering if coming alone was a bad idea, angry at himself for coming in the heat of the moment after his argument with Jisoo, realizing that there was no point in this if Jisoo wasn’t there. 

 

He didn’t cry, but he sure as hell felt like crying his eyes out. 

 

~~~~~

 

Seungcheol jumped out of bed to a screeching alarm — one that rang extra sharp and shrill to induce a sense of urgency. This wasn’t a wake-up alarm, he recognized immediately. It was the second night of the cruise, or more accurately the third day seeing as it was past midnight, and an emergency alarm rang to warn its passengers that something was very wrong. A male voice could be heard through the speakers that decorated the ceiling, and it notified the passengers to locate their life jackets from under the bed and then head to the nearest lifeboat. An engine fire had started and the ship was sinking.

 

Screams arose left and right, wails of desperation that were accompanied the pushing and shoving of the crowd around him, everyone trying to reach the lifeboats first. It was hard to walk through the crowd when some had already inflated their life jackets when directly instructed not to until they had reached the deck. Some attempted to salvage their luggage, only to realize that they would have to abandon their belongings eventually.

 

Seungcheol’s body swayed from the sudden jerky rocking of the floor beneath him and he reached for the wall to stabilize himself with success. Only those that hung onto the walls remained standing and proceeded to make their way past those now sprawled on the floor. The sprinklers turned on soon after, thoroughly soaking those still in the hall even though they had a ways to go before being lowered into the ocean by lifeboat. A terrified cry could be heard from behind him and Seungcheol looked back at a helpless child who was scared for her life. A sense of responsibility swelled from within his chest and he vowed to himself that he wouldn’t escape before all the children did. He made it his duty to find children and their mothers and guide them through the crowd, taking advantage of his strong arms to make a path for them to the deck. A few others noticed Seungcheol’s actions and began to follow suit, prioritizing children.

 

By the time he thought back to it, the course of events was a blur. All the passengers were able to secure themselves on lifeboats with their life jackets, though a good half of them were still wet from the sprinklers. Including all of the members on Seungcheol’s lifeboat. All they could do now, though, was wait for help to arrive, as luck decided not to grant them a lifeboat with a working motor.

 

It was colder than he thought it would be. Not even ten minutes into the lifeboat’s decent, Seungcheol was shivering. He harshly rubbed his arms covered in goosebumps as his core shook him in order to keep him warm. He couldn’t think, the phrase  _ It’s so cold _ repeating in his mind when his lips were no longer able to speak it. It was dark, but he could detect a blue tinge on some of the other passenger’s lips and he thought,  _ I guess I’m really going to die this time. _ Sleep was the enemy, he knew. But when unconsciousness was beckoning him like a warm blanket, he couldn’t resist it. His body started calming down and he couldn’t be sure that it was because it really was, or that his brain just couldn’t register the tremors anymore. Either way, his breaths slowed.

 

_ I never got to apologize, but Jisoo will forgive me, right? _

 

His eyelids drooped lower and lower, his frame curling to a comfortable position.

 

_ Right? _

 

He felt consciousness slip away.

 

~~~~~

 

It was loud.

 

At first, it was a light drone, but it rapidly became a deafening roar, and with his heart pounding furiously from fright, Seungcheol sat straight up, woken effectively. Up in the sky, he saw it, salvation in the form of a black helicopter. Relieved, he turned around to celebrate with the other passengers in his lifeboat, but none of them were awake. He didn’t know how long he slept for, but as light or deep of a sleep he was in, he was able to wake up from the noise. It was strange that he was the only one. Strange and concerning.

 

Seungcheol reached his arm out to shake the nearest other passenger awake but gasped when the passenger fell to his side with a dull thud. Seungcheol had only touched their shoulder, but their skin was much too cold for comfort. Panicking, he waved his arms at the helicopter, and when a rescuer came down, he insisted that the others were taken first. They were in more need of help. After examination of the other passengers, however, Seungcheol was the only one deemed fit by the rescuer to be taken by the helicopter, announcing that the others were no longer alive, likely taken by hypothermia. Seungcheol was fine, the rescuer informed him. He was cold, but he would be just fine.

 

Physically, that may have been so, but mentally it wasn’t. He wasn’t fine.

 

Jisoo was waiting for him at the hospital when he heard the news that Seungcheol was being transported there. They each said their apologies to the other, Seungcheol sorry for being immature and Jisoo sorry for not making the time for him, and both glad that they were able to see each other again.

 

Seungcheol thought luck was on his side, after all.

 

~~~~~

 

**Jihoon**

 

Jihoon had the ability to fly. To hover, really, but he could stay up in the air about two inches off the ground. He had this ability, but no one knew but he, as he deemed it was best that he was the only one to know of it. After hearing the news that the flying man never regained his abilities while Jihoon’s powers remained, it became clear that Jihoon took this hovering ability from the flying man he once adored. He never spoke a word of it to anyone, nor did he apologize for it, letting his guilt swallow the bulk of his emotions as he saw fit. He was the one to ruin the flying man’s reputation, so it was only right for him to be punished in some way.

 

He was prepared to face the rest of his life having the secret powers of hovering, but at some point in time, without realizing it, he realized he had another power: reading minds. It was during an exam that he discovered it.  _ Another _ power, it seemed at first, but after trying to levitate after discovering this new power, he couldn't. His ability to speak to read minds had replaced his ability to fly.

 

The classroom was silent with only subtle noises of pencil scribbling on paper, hands wiping away eraser dust, sighs, and shoes lightly tapping on the wood floor being audible. The more Jihoon concentrated, however, the more noises were brought to his attention.

 

Mumbling. The kind that one utters habitually when solving a complex problem. It was the next sound he heard. Though Jihoon tried to ignore his classmate, another joined in, and another, and soon the classroom sounded of light buzzing whispers, not quite loud enough to overpower the sound of scuttling, frustrated feet, but loud enough to distract Jihoon.

 

Jihoon subtly turned his head to request his neighboring seatmate for silence, but when he looked over, there was something strange about what he saw. His neighbor's lips weren't moving in the slightest. Nor was was his neighbor's neighbor's, nor his neighbor's neighbor's neighbor's. No one was speaking, and yet Jihoon heard their voices in an echo-like quality, and all he could do was ignore them as best as he could to finish his test.

 

Their time ran out, and the teacher demanded their tests to be passed forward, and Jihoon's mind was more jumbled than before. Had he hallucinated just then? Or…

 

Dinner at home that night was silent, and Jihoon heard it again, the mumbling voices forming not quite cohesive sentences. They were thought processes spoken aloud. Aloud meaning in Jihoon's head.    
  
_ The chicken, ugh, overcooked. Again? _

 

It was his mother's voice, though her mouth was occupied with dry chicken and unable to form tangent words, Jihoon heard them. He wondered if this was something he could tell his mother, that he could read minds, or perhaps thoughts as they formed? How would she take it?

 

"So," Jihoon started.

 

"I know, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overcook it. I was just anxious with your entrance exams coming up, you know?"

 

"No, it's delicious," he responded. It was better if she didn’t have another worry to fret over.

 

In the course of a few days, Jihoon understood more and more about his new ability, but not where it came from. Not knowing anyone who had such a power in the first place, it was hard for him to find out, but regardless, there was nothing he could do to change this. There was nothing he could do to stop taking powers away from people who may treasure them, and there was nothing he could do to make up for it. He learned acceptance this way.

 

~~~~~

 

**Seungcheol**

 

“Let’s go on a hiking trip together. A few day’s worth.”

 

Seungcheol paused in surprise in the middle of chewing his toast, since it was Jisoo who suggested a date. A date that would be for multiple days. On a hike which meant little or no cellular connection. He swallowed the toast prematurely, brittle crumbs scraping his throat.

 

After the cruise incident, the two hadn’t gone on a date outside of visiting the dog cafe that they used to frequent, more for Jisoo’s peace of mind than Seungcheol’s. For Jisoo to be the one to practically suggest a date in the mountains was a huge step out of his comfort zone. But if Jisoo was the one suggesting it, then he must have been wanting to overcome his fears somewhat.

 

“Are you sure? And don’t you think your boss might hold you back again?”

 

“He hired another secretary so I could have more vacation time. You don’t have to worry about that part. As for the trip itself, I’m sure I want to. I don’t want our relationship to be tied down by  _ my _ fears. You’ve sacrificed  _ so much _ for me, so I want to give back by going on fun dates again.”

 

Seungcheol reached for Jisoo’s hand, Jisoo opening his clenched fist to let him in.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with the dog cafe. We both like it, don’t we?”

 

“I know,” Jisoo sighed. “But I don’t want you to get tired of our relationship because  _ I _ can’t handle the thought of  _ you _ going anywhere.”

 

Seungcheol gave Jisoo’s hand a tight squeeze.

 

“I won’t get tired of this relationship, Jisoo. I love you, You know that.”

 

“I know, but can we just think of this as a first step to facing my fears? I still want to do this. For the both of us.”

 

He knew Jisoo was trying, and he wanted to reward his efforts somehow. If agreeing was the way to do it, then agreeing was what he would do. He closed his eyes as he brought Jisoo’s hand to his lips.

 

“Okay.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Seungcheol!”

 

Jisoo’s voice was faint, muffled from having to pass through quite some distance and shrubbery, but Sengcheol heard it clear enough. He responded by shouting that he was okay, and the next thing he knew, Jisoo was beside him, having traveled down the mountain in the same way Seungcheol had fallen. Only he hadn’t fallen so pathetically like Seungcheol had, instead scooting himself down the mountain, using the nearby branches to assist his descent.

 

Jisoo flinched when he caught the streaks of glossy garnet decorating Seungcheol’s calf. 

 

“You call this ‘okay’?”

 

Seungcheol’s chest ached more than his leg when he saw Jisoo’s expression. He knew Jisoo was blaming himself for the injury, even though Seungcheol was the one who tripped from the ledge, because it was Jisoo who suggested the hike in the first place. Jisoo was selfless like that, always taking the chance to carry the fault so others wouldn’t have to. But it was a selfish way to think when Seungcheol was hurt from knowing what Jisoo thought.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll live. I was okay enough to shout to you, wasn’t I?”

 

“Seungcheol, please. This isn’t the time for jokes. We have to get back somehow…”

 

They looked up where they strayed from the trail, judging it was impossible to go up the same way.

 

Seungcheol chuckled nervously. “It’ll heal. It’s not that big of a deal.”

 

It didn’t heal.

 

Having gone terribly off of the trail, Seungcheol and Jisoo had to find a new route to get back home, but being surrounded by a seemingly indefinite number of trees, there was no way to tell if they were coming closer or farther from their destination. When night fell, Jisoo declared that they must have lost their way, but Seungcheol optimistically suggested that they were just much slower at finding their way out because they were off the path and because Seungcheol was slowing them down tremendously. With no signal from either of their phones, they could only hope to either make their way out by themselves or that perhaps someone notices their absence. By ‘someone’, Seungcheol thought of Jisoo’s boss, who was a stickler for being on schedule. At most, they would be stuck for another two days, when Jisoo was scheduled off, before the guy would notice. Seungcheol was never fond of Jisoo’s boss, but he had no choice but to rely on him at this point.

 

A burning sensation crawled up Seungcheol’s leg, and he started to hope harder. While most of the blood formed a crust on his skin, a small glimmer of light still reflected in the red of the wound, where the bleeding had not quite ceased. The surface of his leg was tender, much more than before, but he hoped a good night’s sleep would help it heal. 

 

With exhaustion hitting him hard, even the damp ground was comfortable enough for him to fall asleep to. He beckoned Jisoo with wide arms, and they slept in the comfort of each other’s bodies and each other’s hearts.

 

~~~~~

 

**Jihoon**

 

_ The city has been free of arson for several years now, but it seems that serial arsonist “Cinder Fingers” is active once again. There were two arsons last night, the building burned down only a block away from each other. Police still have no leads, and there have been complaints about the workforce. Will investigators be able to track down the serial arsonist? _

 

Jihoon never liked the feeling of being invasive, so he avoided reading minds at all costs. The best way to do that, he found, was to keep his headphones on to listen to the radio all day. It was only in silence that he could hear the inner voices of those who surrounded him, so he kept himself immersed in the sound of current events. He felt he knew more about the world, and if it meant he would learn less about the people around him, friends and strangers, then that was fine. He didn’t want to know more than what his friends were willing to say, and wearing headphones everywhere he went wasn’t uncommon for someone his age. Thankfully, he didn’t particularly stand out more than others for doing it.

 

Over the years of gaining his current power, there were qualities he discovered about it. For one, most people thought quietly, unless their emotions were rampant in some way. That was why he mostly heard voices when the environment was quiet. However, people could scream in thought. More times than he would have liked to admit, he heard the broken-hearted words from strangers whose relationships had gone awry. More times than he would have liked to admit, he heard screams of help for reasons he never ventured to discover. He turned a blind eye too many times to count, and yet he was never able to desensitize his growing pangs of guilt. For someone who had the power to hear voices in need, he didn’t do much to help anyone. But should he have shouldered the responsibility when he was the only one who could hear them? Was he really obligated to?

 

He decided it was in his best interest to ignore the world. To ignore the voices and pretend they were never there. For all he knew, they could have been hallucinations from the heavy stress that came from studying. It was a possibility, especially when he never confronted anyone of their thoughts. Who was he to judge that the thoughts he heard were real? Did it really matter so long as he kept quiet about it?

 

He probably should have told someone about it. Anyone he was close to would have been fine, but hiding the fact for so long made it difficult for Jihoon to tell anyone why he had to disappear, or that he would at all.

 

On the night after he received his acceptance to a university abroad, he was walking back home late after a celebratory solo drinking night. The dimly lit street was hard to see, causing him to squint as he walked the familiar route home. He wasn’t so intoxicated that he stumbled, but the cool brick walls of the neighborhood helped him keep balance. It was mostly by memory that he was making his way back, since reading the street signs were too much of a hassle in his state. He thought it would be a peaceful walk home, but something caught his attention.

 

Despite the sparse number of streetlights illuminating his path, and despite Jihoon’s dampened ability to see, it was bright. 

 

He looked up, first mistaking the sight in front of him to be a large campfire from lack of judgment, but upon sobering up, he realized that what he thought were logs was the skeleton of a house. It was bright, glowing, and entrancing, but at the same time horrifying. There was a house on  _ fire _ . There was a house in  _ his _ neighborhood on fire. 

 

Jihoon thought back to the news he heard on the radio that day, that the serial killer Cinder Fingers had returned, and a deep fear shook him to the core when he remembered the last incident involved two houses within a block of each other. He started running towards his own house, adrenaline affecting him more than the alcohol, needing to make sure his family was safe. His feet stopped instinctively, though, when he heard a scream. An echoing scream that told him it was a thought rather than an utterance, coming from the direction of the burning house, not even a few meters from him.

 

_ Not again! No, not again! _ the voice bounced in Jihoon’s head.

 

A man ran out of the burning house, smoke clinging to and trailing behind him, hands covering his face. The man ran towards Jihoon, who had no time to recover from the shock before the man crashed into him and quickly gathered himself and fled without an apology even though Jihoon had fallen to the floor.

 

_ That man was probably the serial arsonist _ Jihoon thought, trying to recall his face to inform the police when he could. But he had to check the safety of his home, first.

 

The contents of Jihoon’s bag scattered from the impact, the zipper never quite closed after it got stuck one day and stayed stuck. With a sense of urgency, he picked up and packed his things. First his pencil case, then his water bottle, and then his book. His book, however, never reached the inside of his bag, as it incinerated as he picked it up, ashes crumbling between his fingers to the gravel. There was nothing that could have triggered the book to burst into flames, but it did as Jihoon picked it up. He didn’t want to believe what he saw, but he knew it was real. He reached for his binder, which was unaffected as he placed it in his bag. When he picked up his notebook, however, it flashed bright flames before turning to ashes, and everything made sense.

 

_ It was by touch…  _

 

Jihoon could no longer feel any sensation, not the harsh landing of his knees to the ground nor the scratches when the weight of his arm made his hand fall and brush the street. He was dumb for not figuring it out all this time, that it was touch. He took away the powers of others by touch, and he just obtained the power that cursed the wanted serial arsonist. 

 

~~~~~

 

**Seungcheol**

 

Seungcheol felt hot and cold simultaneously, more exhausted than when he went to sleep. His body was hot, but his leg was lava, his heartbeat erupting inside the limb. He was unable to move himself, his entire body heavy, the sweat built up on his skin feeling like the weight of an ocean. He was conscious, but just barely, and his efforts were put into trying to remember what had happened, why he was in such a state. 

 

“Seungcheol! Don’t die on me!”

 

Cool hands swept across his cheeks, and he felt his lips lift in response to the pleasant sensation. A cloth was rubbed against his limbs, sopping up moisture, and he heard his name called once again.

 

“I’m sorry, this was all my fault. I was right, it’s just too dangerous outside of the city.”

 

It was Jisoo’s voice, Seungcheol recognized. His sweet and loving voice, bellowing in shaken sorrow, and yet Seungcheol found happiness in hearing it. Despite not being able to register much, it was the one thing he confidently recognized and confidently loved. 

 

Even as he found sleep nudging him once again, he regretted nothing.

 

“Jisoo! JISOO!”

 

The next few seconds that turned into minutes, that turned into days, all flashed by before Seungcheol could even tell what was happening. Seungcheol was being taken by the rescue crew, being held back from running towards Jisoo, whom they were taking in through a stretcher. He didn’t know why Jisoo was lying there like that, eyes closed and resting peacefully when the helicopter above them was so loud it drowned Seungcheol’s screams. 

 

His wrists were strapped onto the hospital bed after the nurses were put up with his attempts to escape to locate his lover, seeing as they should have been sent to the same place. When his body was no longer able to escape the bed, he used his voice, screaming Jisoo’s name again and again until a man in a suit visited him. He introduced himself as an investigator.

 

“Can you tell me what happened on the mountain?”

 

Seungcheol was silent.

 

“Choi Seungcheol?”

 

“I… I don’t know.”

 

“You don’t remember?”

 

“I…”

 

“Please just tell me everything you can. We’ll try to figure out the rest.”

 

“Jisoo and I, we went to go on a hike. On the mountains. It was supposed to be a date. Our first date outside of the city in a long time…”

 

“And?”

 

“I tripped somewhere along the way and fell really far down, and I cut my leg on some branch on the way. And then Jisoo came down to see if I was okay. He didn’t fall though, it was just me. We tried to get back up the trail so we could go home, but I couldn’t because of my injury, so we tried to find our way back from where we were. And, I think my leg got infected, because I remember Jisoo taking care of me. I think I was feverish because of it. I don’t really remember, but then the next thing I knew, we were being rescued and they took Jisoo away from me. Do you know where he is? Can you take me to him? I just want to know what’s going on. Please.”

 

The investigator wrote Seungcheol’s comments down, a concerned frown on his face.

 

“Thank you for telling me this, but I think you’re a bit confused. Maybe you were traumatized by the situation and your mind remembers the event in the victim’s shoes, but  _ your _ leg is fine. It was  _ Hong Jisoo’s _ leg that was cut up and infected.  _ He _ was the one who passed away from the nasty infection on his leg.”

 

Seungcheol blinked. “Passed away? What are you talked about? No, I remember. It was me,  _ I _ cut my leg.  _ I _ hurt myself and Jisoo was blaming himself for it. Why are you saying  _ Jisoo _ passed away? Are you saying he  _ died _ ? I don’t understand.”

 

The investigator shook his head. “Your memories must be boggled up. Why don’t you get some sleep? Maybe you’ll remember more clearly when you wake up. I’ll turn this information to my boss, but I think we have everything we need. Thank you for your time, and I’m extremely sorry for your loss. Have a good day.”

 

He held out a hand for a shake, but upon seeing Seungcheol’s bound wrists, he withdrew it. As he left, Seungcheol was frustrated, trying to understand what was happening. He was sure of it,  _ he _ got hurt. Dead? Jisoo was dead?  _ Seungcheol _ should have been the one dead.  _ Seungcheol _ should have been the one to die because  _ Seungcheol _ was the one with the injury. What was happening? Why?  _ Why _ ?

 

Jisoo… was dead?

 

Jisoo.

 

Dead. 

 

Jisoo was dead, so why, why, why, why,  _ why _ was Seungcheol alive?

 

~~~~~

 

Seungcheol brushed the tip of the blade with his finger with little pressure, but it was sharp enough to break the first thin layer of skin. That made the fifteenth break in the pad of his forefinger that day, as Seungcheol had been contemplating for a long time. 

 

It didn’t make sense, but it was the only explanation he could think of, and the only solution he could come up with.

 

He brought the blade to his throat, finally conjuring up the resolve to do so. 

 

It didn’t make sense that Jisoo died when Seungcheol should have. It didn’t make sense that Jisoo had a wound where Seungcheol did, and Seungcheol’s wound was gone. It didn’t make sense unless somehow, Jisoo took death away from him, or that he gave death to Jisoo, and if that was the case, it was only natural that Seungcheol should die. Whether it would bring Jisoo back, he wasn’t sure, but either way, Seungcheol didn’t want to live in a world without him. 

 

When he thought back on his life, he realized it wasn’t the first time he was sure he would die. The disaster cruise he was a part of was a time where he wasn’t so sure he would survive, but he ended up being the sole survivor of his lifeboat. Of all of them, when he was the coldest and wettest, he was the only one to survive. The first time he was _ sure _ he would die was when he was fighting in the war. He remembered his gunshot wounds, two of them close to his heart, but when he woke up, he was alive. He was alive, but the others in the medical tent weren’t. They all had gunshot wounds, and it only took him that many years to realize they were in the same spots that Seungcheol’s wounds had previously been. Seungcheol had died then, he knew it, but he came back to life and others had taken his place. It dawned on him that no one had attacked the medical tent. It was  _ Seungcheol _ that caused their deaths. Without knowing it until now, Seungcheol held some power that allowed surrounding people to take his place upon dying. It was a horrible power, and he didn’t know why he had it, but knowing it was his fault that Jisoo was gone, he found no reason to live anymore. There was no reason for him to live just fine what he was the cause of the death of many, when he lived happily with Jisoo without knowing anything. 

 

It was only right to end it now. In a cabin far from the city, and far from people, where no one would get hurt, he would end the tragedy he created. It was only fair. He felt sorry for Hyuk, who might end up waiting for him forever, but Hyuk was entrusted to a good friend. Maybe Seungcheol was avoiding responsibility this way, but at the same time he was taking responsibility for the deaths he had caused in the past, and the ones could surely cause in the future.

 

He pressed the blade into his pulsing skin.

 

~~~~~

 

He had never seen so many grounded crows in one place at a time. When he opened the door to his cabin, the ground appeared black from the blanket of crows for as far as he could see, all of which were slaughtered. With each bird having spilt blood from their necks sliced open, who could have been the culprit other than Seungcheol, whose neck was clean without a hint of his bloody knife having ever touched it. 

 

It wasn’t just humans’ he found out. It wasn’t just humans’ lives that were affected by the power Seungcheol had but never once asked for. He couldn’t be near any living thing if he wanted to truly end what should have ended so long ago. He had to be somewhere void of life, and only then would he be, too.

 

~~~~~

 

The light reflecting off of the snow was blinding, and the temperature made him shiver. The arctic seemed as bitter as he was, and he was almost glad of it, seeing how it was a fitting end. Having walked for hours to ensure he was far enough away from the nearest city, and only hoping the ice was deep enough that no sea creatures were near his feet, he decided that it was the place.

 

But there was something that caught his eye.

 

In the vast nothingness of white, with no other signs of life left or right, there was a small mound of snow up ahead. Upon getting closer, Seungcheol noticed it was an igloo, obviously and somewhat poorly man-made. The important part of his observation was that it was man-made, was the possibility of someone being inside, and after everything Seungcheol had been through, he didn’t want to cause another unintentional death because of his carelessness. He entered the shelter.

 

“I wouldn’t come in here if I were you,” said a young male voice from inside. “It’s dangerous.”

 

_ Dangerous? _ Seungcheol stepped inside anyways. It wasn’t like he was trying to make an effort to stay alive.

 

“You’re not listening. You should leave,” the voice said more sternly.

 

“What is there to be afraid of? I’m probably the most dangerous thing around. I came in here to warn you about  _ me _ .”

 

“ _ You? _ Why would you warn me about  _ you? _ ”

 

Seungcheol stared into the hard eyes that peeked through between the fur lining of a jacket and a scarf that enveloped a small structure. The igloo resident couldn’t be older than he, and yet he was speaking to him harshly. The two gave each other a long glare, neither withdrawing their statements nor their gazes.

 

_ “I could kill you,” _ the boy in the large coat finally said, breaking the challenging silence.

 

“But in the end,  _ you’d _ be the dead one, because believe it or not, I have a kind of unnatural power that would make it happen. I came here to warn you to stay away from that area over there,” he pointed outside of the igloo entrance, “if you can. At least for a few days. It's the only way I think I'll be able to find peace.”

 

“Find peace…” The boy stepped closer to Seungcheol, examining his expression. Though the low temperatures caused Seungcheol’s entire body to be numb to its state, he could only imagine what kind of face he was making right then. 

 

“Death, huh? That’s the conclusion you came up with?”

 

Surprised, Seungcheol could only nod.

 

“I think we both have a lot to share. Why don’t we talk about it?”

 

Seated on the ice-cold floor, the two of them shared their stories. First was Seungcheol, who explained how, though he didn’t realize it at first, survived by taking the lives of others upon death. He shared how he only realized too late, after losing his beloved, and that he couldn’t think of a good reason to live. After taking the lives of so many, he didn’t know what he did to deserve to live, but taking his life was more challenging than first expected. And he made his resolve to try once more in a place that lacked both animals and people, and the arctic was where he came up with.

 

The boy, Jihoon, he introduced himself as, also had a power, but he knew of his long before then. In a small town where he grew up was an uncle who had the power of levitation… 

 

~~~~~

 

There was a similarity in their stories. Both were unaware, to some extent, what their powers were, and both ended up in the vacant cold in order to prevent tragedies. Hearing Jihoon’s story, Seungcheol almost wanted to give up what he had already set his mind to do. Their two selves could maybe make do with what they had, using the other to satisfy their loneliness. 

 

Satisfaction, he admitted to himself, wasn’t quite the word, but if there was something even remotely close that he could hang onto, then he wondered if that was good enough. When he made the suggestion to Jihoon, however…

 

“I chose to live here by myself, partially because I’m a threat to others, but also because it’s what I deserve. I ignored the voices of people in need when I was the only one who knew, and keeping that secret for so long, I think my judgment is fair. If you want to live, then I’m sorry, but it can’t be with me.”

 

The slightest glimmer of hope disappeared in the wind, and Seungcheol remembered the reason he came.

 

“You’re right, I guess you can choose for yourself what kind of punishment you think is right. I already chose mine, though…“ he paused, looking outside of the igloo where a monochrome scene lay, contemplating if his plan would really be successful, or if something else would work better. “Do you think you can do me a favor?”

 

Seungcheol took off his gloves and held out his hands. They shivered, his body cold even when there warm tears running down his cheeks. Feeling that this was finally the end of his journey, emotions welled up inside him, and he felt as if he was finally crying for lives he had unintentionally taken. He smiled, knowing this was what he truly wanted.

 

Without further explanation, Jihoon seemed to have understood that Seungcheol wanted him to take his power. If Jihoon was going to live the rest of his life in solitude, there was no reason he couldn’t harbor such a power, Seungcheol reasoned by himself. 

 

Jihoon took off his gloves as well, and the two reached out to each other.

 

When their hands touched, Seungcheol was suddenly very warm, despite where he was. He was hot. He was burning. Jihoon shouted, apologizing profusely while trying to scrape up the hard ice beneath him to pile onto Seungcheol, but Seungcheol raised his hand. As painful as it was, his heart was at peace, finally, knowing that there was no doubt that his time had come. After facing death so many times, it was almost exhausting to live, and now he wouldn’t have to deal with that burden anymore.

 

With tears no longer on his face, evaporated by the fire, he looked at Jihoon. His throat was dry, but he managed to mouth a  _ Thank you _ and  _ I’m sorry _ . The last sight he saw was Jihoon smiling a melancholy smile, ready to bear the burden Seungcheol left behind. As remorseful as Seungcheol was, he would be eternally grateful to face death, at last, to meet Jisoo on the other side of death’s door waiting for him.

**Author's Note:**

> The end~


End file.
